That's What She Said
by windscryer
Summary: There are layers to Dean Winchester. Sam didn't expect to find this was one of them and he's still not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Gen.


Mild spoilers for 5.08 _Changing Channels_.

Oh come on. How many of us DIDN'T think of this after that episode? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Might be a tad OOC on Dean's part, but I prefer to think of it as either delightfully quirky or a hint of crack. Let me know how you see it in a review! *sly smile*

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"Hey, I found the names of—" Sam stopped when he realized his brother was grinning at his computer screen—and not in a way that said he'd found information on how to kill a stenoret. "Dean? What are you doing?"

Dean looked up, surprise briefly skittering across his face and shut the lid on his laptop with a snap.

"Nothing."

Sam frowned. "Dean, you'd better not be watching porn in the library. They'll kick us out and there isn't exactly another branch in town we can go to. There's probably not even another branch in this county."

Dean scowled. "Dude, I know that. It wasn't porn. Besides, what fun is watching porn in a library? Not like you can do anything about—"

"And on _that_ note..." Sam interrupted as he sat down. "So what did you find?"

Dean reopened his laptop and skimmed a finger over the touchpad to awaken it. "Not much. You said you found the names?"

"Yeah. Tom and Rebecca Whitehead built the house back in 1798. It stayed in their family for seven generations until their last descendant failed to have kids and provide an heir. The estate sold at auction and three months later the problems started."

Dean had reopened his laptop as he listened and grunted in acknowledgment. "You think they were the ones that summoned the little bastards?"

"Them or one of their descendants. But since stenorets are tied to the land, have to be summoned, and didn't start causing problems until the land changed hands, yeah, I'd say they're the ones who brought them here."

Dean grunted again, but his attention was on the screen in front of him.

Sam considered for a second, then grabbed the screen and pulled it away as he spun it around.

"Hey!" Dean said, earning a hissed shushing from the librarian. Sam glanced over guiltily, but Dean was too focused on getting his laptop back, practically laying on the table as he leaned over it.

Sam pushed off with his feet and rolled backwards, but Dean just followed. Until he realized that it would make more sense to stand and walk around the table.

By then Sam had gotten enough of a look at the open webpage to have his eyebrows crawling his forehead into his hairline.

The page abruptly vanished when Dean shoved a hand down on the lid, slamming it and almost catching Sam's fingers.

Sam yanked his hands back and Dean scooped up the computer, glaring at his brother as he stalked back to his seat.

"Dean," Sam said.

"Shut up, Sam."

"Was that—"

"I said shut up."

"—fanfiction?"

Dean paused to focus his glare on his brother.

Sam's lips started to curve. "It was." Then he frowned. "Wait, you read that crap? Dean, we're living those stories. Well, not _those_ stories, but—"

"It's not _Supernatural_ fanfiction, Sam. Don't be an idiot." Dean started packing up his things, though that was probably to give him something to do besides not look at Sam.

Or maybe because he didn't want to have this conversation in public. Which was too bad, because Sam wasn't letting this conversation end. It would never start again if he did.

"Oh yeah? Then who was telling 'Sam' that it's okay to cry? Man, if you have to read it, can't you at least read the good stuff? If it even exists..."

Dean sighed, letting his head fall back as he gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. He looked back at Sam and realized that avoiding this was not a possibility.

"Sam _Addison_," he said grudgingly. "Not Winchester."

Sam's head tilted. "Who?"

"She's the new intern on _Dr. Sexy, M.D_. She's also the new love interest for Dr. Sweet-Ass."

Sam's eyebrows rose. "Dr. _Sweet-Ass_?"

Now Sam got the shush and glare from the librarian. He grinned and waved in apology and lowered his voice. "Who _exactly_ is Dr. Sweet-Ass?"

Dean was rolling his eyes again. "I didn't nickname him. The fandom did."

"The _fandom_?" Sam stared. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

"What?" Dean said defensively. "It's not like we're always able to catch the new episodes with hunts and researching and making money— Oh, and there's that whole 'Apocalypse' thing we've got going on the side, you know?"

"Yeah, Dean, I'm aware of our time constraints. And yet somehow you can find enough time to be part of a _fandom_."

"Well, just this one message board, really. And there was this chick when we were discussing Dr. Pretty-Lips' suspension who said she wrote a one-shot to explain why Dr. Assface—"

"Dr. Assface? Dr. _Pretty-Lips_?"

Dean shrugged. "Assface is an administrator and totally has it out for Dr. Sexy. Jealous bastard. And Dr. Pretty-lips... Well, the guy has porn-star lips." He seemed to realize how that sounded when Sam's eyes widened. "Hey, I'm not saying they do anything for me, but I think I've seen enough porn stars to know what their lips look like, and the girls are right."

"The girls?"

Dean hesitated, seeming to figure out that he was only digging himself deeper. "Yeah. Um." He licked his lips. "The girls on the board."

Sam just blinked.

"There aren't a lot of guys on the board. Apparently girls are more into the online fandom thing. Which, by the way, is their loss. It's like crashing a bachelorette party." His head bobbed to the side. "Without the open bar and donuts shaped like dicks." He coughed at Sam's continuing stare of disbelief. "Or, uh, so I've heard."

"Christo."

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his jacket, heading for the door.

"Seriously, Dean," Sam said. "Are you listening to yourself?"

"Seriously, Sam, I'm not allowed to have a hobby or something?"

"Yeah, but, Dean, I thought sex and booze and pool were your hobbies."

"Wow. Thanks. So, according to you, I have the depth of a parking lot puddle. Nice," Dean said as he pushed through the door.

Sam stopped cold just inside, then exited as well, jogging to catch up to his brother, dodging in front of him and putting up his hands to stop Dean's progress.

"Wait. Just... Just wait. Do you just _read_ this fanfiction, or do you _write_ it as well?"

Dean gave his brother a flat look. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously!"

Dean got the look on his face that said he was about to lie his ass off.

"You do," Sam accused. "You write _fanfiction_?"

Dean gave two passing girls a smile then glared at Sam. "You want to say that a little louder? I might still get laid tonight."

"Don't you have something else to be doing instead?" Sam said, following when Dean shoved past him.

"I'm done discussing this with you. Conversation is closed."

"Where do you publish it?"

Dean ignored him.

"Dean, come on, man."

Dean looked both ways and crossed the street to the parking lot where the Impala waited.

"Dean—"

Dean stopped and spun on one heel, poking Sam in the chest and almost making him trip when he stumbled backward at the unexpected halt.

"Drop. It. Sam."

"No. Man, come on! You just confessed you _write_ _fanfiction_. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Dean?"

Dean gave an aggravated sigh and kept going to the car. "Or don't. Whatever. But this is why I don't share things like this with you."

Ah hell. Now he was all defensive. Sam was never going to find out more and, truth be told, he was more curious than derisive of it now.

To catch Dean's attention like this it had to be pretty special. Dean could protest all he wanted, but a lifetime as his brother told Sam that it really was usually only alcohol, sex, and pool—well, and killing things—that held this kind of sway over the older Winchester.

The engine of the Impala revved, catching Sam's attention.

"You have three seconds before I leave your ass and you're walking back to the motel," Dean called through the open window.

Sam hurried to get inside, slamming the door just as Dean pressed the gas.

"Dean—"

Dean ignored him and pulled out his cellphone, dialing as he turned onto the road.

"Bobby. How do you kill a stenoret?"

Sam sighed and relaxed into the seat.

This wasn't the end. It would just take some research on Sam's part to find out more. Fortunately, research was Sam's forte and one of his pleasures in life.

He would get to the bottom of this mystery, one way or another.

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Fin.

Review, plz&thx.


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